


whatever this world can give to me

by middnighter



Series: halbarry + cliché fanfic tropes [1]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 14:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13168533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middnighter/pseuds/middnighter
Summary: Hal didn’t care about the soulmate stuff, but Barry certainly did.





	whatever this world can give to me

**Author's Note:**

> I really love soulmate AUs ok and I will not rest until I have written five hundred of them.

Hal never really cared about all of that soulmate stuff.

Yes, there was a name on his wrist, like most people on this planet, but he wasn’t going to let that influence his love life. He wasn’t the type to wait forever until meeting them, or actively seeking them.

You couldn’t force fate’s hand. Some people tried, had the handwriting on their wrists and a sample of their own registered on matchmaking sites. He never saw the appeal. Dating someone only because some kind of cosmic force decided that you were a good match? Hal didn’t want that, thank you very much. He liked to think he had at least some control left over that part of his life. And he knew all about cosmic forces, more often than not they were full of shit.

So he still dated. And yes, his relationships were volatile, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t looking to settle down. And with all the green lantern stuff he didn’t have the time to focus on a stable relationship.

He told himself he didn’t care about the soulmate stuff. But during the days off, where he didn’t have anything to do except go for a drink and think, he thought about Bartholomew.

First of all, was he still talking to his parents after they gave him such a dumb name?

He wondered what he did for a living —probably a normal job, not a part time superhero gig like Hal—, how he spent his evenings —probably not hanging out alone in a bar like Hal.

The only clues he had were the handwriting —small, rushed— and the color that was supposed to match his soulmate’s eyes —the bluest of all the blues. That wasn’t really helping.

And he liked knowing that Bartholomew existed. It was nice, feeling someone else’s emotions in his head when he was alone. They were muffled, and he had to really focus to even get a glimpse of them, but the bond would only set and get stronger if they touched each other’s soulmark. He liked always having someone with him. It made falling asleep easier.

So maybe that was another reason why his dating life was a wreck. Because of his job, because of his commitment issues, and because of Bartholomew, who he couldn’t completely shut out of his mind.

* * *

Hal didn’t care about the soulmate stuff, but Barry certainly did.

Barry was the fastest man alive, and Hal’s best friend. Barry wore one of those bracelets to cover the name on his wrist —which was pretty common, most people considered their soulmark private, especially when they hadn’t found their soulmate. Hal settled for long sleeves.

And Barry didn’t want to date anyone else.

“It wouldn’t be honest, you know?” he explained to Hal one day. “No matter how much I may like someone, I would know that they’re not the one for me, and I couldn’t help but think that we won’t last, they’d leave me for their soulmate. I can’t date someone knowing that. It wouldn’t be fair, to either or us. So I’m waiting until I meet him. The one.”

Hal nodded, and Hal opened another bottle of beer. Barry was always the romantic type. Getting a fancy soulmark bracelet, being all flustered when Hal asked questions about his soulmate —Hal was nosy, and what else were best friends for?

Barry was Hal’s friend, and he was always here for him. To help him get home after a night out, to stay in and marathon movies, to let him crash on his couch after a particularly rough time in Oa.

Hal should be happy with that. Hal was happy with that. Hal knew he should not expect anything more, because even if he felt things for Barry, Barry was waiting for his soulmate. And if his soulmate was Hal he would have said something by now.

But Hal couldn’t help but think about him that way. He was a little bit in love with him, yes. Who wouldn’t be? Barry was funny, and nerdy in a good way, with the bow ties and the pop culture references that flew over Hal’s head most times. He was smart as hell, and he _understood_ Hal, they were alike enough to fit well together, but different where it mattered to make things interesting. Barry laughed at his jokes, and he had a gorgeous smile, and cared about people in a way few did.

And Hal knew that nothing could ever happen between them. Because the name on his wrist had too many letters, even if they were the right colors. Because Hal wasn’t good at relationships, and if something like that damaged his friendship with Barry he would never forgive himself.

He respected him too much to try anything, even if he wished things were different.

A man could still dream.

* * *

Some days were easier than others.

When they were staying at Barry’s place, and Barry made them watch a movie or a TV show, and they had beers and pizza and ended up falling asleep on the couch, under a ton of blankets like they were children, Hal only had to worry about not ruining it all by saying something stupid, something like  _I love you_. Those were the easy days, when they were best friends who did best friend things together.

But on other days, sometimes, Barry was watching when he thought Hal wasn't looking, the friendly touches turned lingering. And for an insane second Hal thought Barry was about to kiss him, or to say something stupid. But the moment always passed, Barry looked away, a slump on his shoulders, a regretful glint in his eyes. Those were the hardest days, when Hal could see that Barry wanted him too. But Barry wouldn’t do anything about it, because hopeless romantic, stupid, wonderful Barry was waiting for his soulmate.

And Hal being the awesome friend that he was he never said anything. He was getting a little bit jealous of Barry’s soulmate. Lucky guy.

And he felt sorry for Bartholomew. Next to Barry he never stood a chance.

* * *

And then Barry almost died.

That was something Hal was always worried about, when they were defending the planet against the next intergalactic menace. Because Barry didn’t have bulletproof skin, couldn’t conjure shields to protect himself, couldn’t shoot lasers out of his eyes, and could oh so very easily get hurt, healing factor or not. He always had an eye out for Barry during the battles. The guy couldn’t even fly!

But this time it wasn’t enough.

He saw him take a nasty blow. He was too late to prevent the fall. He watched him crash against the ground like a puppet whose strings just got cut.

He flew him to the Watchtower, holding the unconscious — _lifeless_ , a panicked part of his brain suggested— body in his trembling arms.

The doctors made him leave the room, and he paced in front of the door, worrying his nails and playing the scene over and over in his head. He couldn’t lose anyone else. If he had been more prepared, more careful, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if Hal had been better Barry wouldn’t be lying on a hospital bed, somewhere between life and death.

A nurse came out of the room after what felt like an eternity. “How is he? Can I see him? Please?” Hal asked him, bracing himself for the answer.

“He’s conscious. We thought you should see him before the intervention.” The unspoken _in case anything goes bad_ made him nauseous. “You have ten minutes.”

He rushed in the room, sitting at Barry’s side. “Hey, Barry,” he said, grabbing his hand. “How are you doing?”

Barry forced his eyes open, and a weak smile lightened his face. “Hal…” he struggled to get the word out. “It’s good to see you.”

“it’s good to see you too.” It wasn’t exactly, he hated seeing Barry like this, so weak, like he didn’t have much time left, but it was good to see him _alive_ at least. “Barry,” he swallowed, “you know I love you, right?” He had to say it. No matter how Barry interpreted it, he wasn’t going to risk losing his best friend without telling him that.

“Yeah, man, I know. I love you too.” Barry’s chuckle turned into a cough. “You know… we would have been great, you and me.”

It all felt too much like something that would only be said in someone’s last breath, and Hal hated that, but he hated more the thought of Barry dying without knowing how loved he was. “We are already great.”

Hal rubbed the back of Barry’s hand with his thumb. He was scared by how cold it was. Barry was never cold.

“You know what I mean. You know how I feel.” Barry tried to smile. “You know, in case it goes wrong—”

“ _Don't say that.”_

“We could have been something... Too bad your name isn’t Harold. He has your eyes, you know.”

_Wait_.

“Your soulmate’s name is Harold? My name is Harold!”

“I didn’t know that.”

“What did you think Hal was short for? Wait. Wait. Barry is short for something too?”

“Yes, for Bartholomew.”

Hal bared his wrist, showing him the mark. Barry’s eyes opened wider. “Barry. _Barry_. I think that we’re soulmates.”

“We’re soulmates,” Barry repeated with a smile. “I’m sorry it took us so long,” he then said quietly, his voice hoarse with pain, or emotion, or both.

“We’re idiots. But you know what? I love you.”

“I love you.” He paused, his face twisted in a wince. “Do you think I’ll make it?”

“You better.”

Hal rolled up the sleeve of the hospital gown, stared at his name on Barry’s arm. He touched it with his fingertips, and still holding Barry’s hand he made it touch Barry’s name on his wrist.

“Hal, no… It’ll hurt you, if I don’t—”

“I don’t care. I can take it.”

As he said those words it was like fireworks exploded around them, and for a moment the only coherent thought Hal managed to have was _fucking finally_ as the bond settled.

Then he had to hold back a scream as Barry’s excruciating pain bled into his body.

“I’m sorry,” Barry said, the rise and fall of his chest steadier.

“Don’t be, it’s okay. Focus on that, alright? Focus on me. You can’t leave me alone now, you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

The doctors came back to the room. Hal gave Barry’s hand a kiss before leaving the room. He sat down on a chair, knees weak, and letting out a groan as he took in more of Barry’s pain. He focused on the bond, on sending energy and support through.

He hadn’t hesitated to settle it, it was a way for him to help Barry, to bear some of his pain for him, and even knowing the risks, the toll it would take on his own energy, the loss he would suffer if Barry didn’t make it, the breaking of a bond was enough to drive some people crazy—

But he wasn’t going to think about that now. He did it for a reason, to ease Barry’s pain, to help him while the doctors did everything they could to keep him alive. So he focused on that, on taking the pain so that Barry wouldn’t have to endure all of it. He had to bite his fist to prevent himself from yelling.

After hours that felt like an eternity of hugging himself through the pain, and sending his love through the bond, when it flickered, when he could feel Barry starting to lose touch, one of the doctors get out of the room. Hal would have gotten up if his legs weren’t about to give up.

“He’ll make it,” she said in a tired but satisfied voice. “It was really close, he’s going to need physical therapy, but he’ll make it.”

Hal could have hugged her. “Can I see him?”

“Of course.”

For the second time today he came into the hospital room, as fast as his trembling legs allowed him to. He sat back at Barry’s side, resting his head on his arms crossed over the tray table. Barry was sleeping, and Hal felt like he needed to rest for twenty days at least. He barely noticed his eyelids closing, and fell asleep next to the love of his life.

When Hal woke up his neck was hurting. It took him some time to realise where he was, and it was the distinct smell of hospital that did it. When he opened his eyes Barry was already awake, and looking at him with so much fondness in his eyes, and Hal thought he wouldn’t mind waking up to this sight every day of his life.


End file.
